Enter The Cheetah
by Pendrake
Summary: Barbara Ann Minerva, noted biologist, develops a serum she feels may hold the cure to many ills. When her funding id withdrawn, she makes the radical decision to test the process on herself...
1. Beginings

The Cheetah  
Chapter 1 - Enter The Cheetah!

by: J.F.

* * *

I wrote this story a little over a year ago. It stars the Cheetah, the version who appeared in the Justice League episode, Injustice For All and not, strictly speaking, Wonder Woman's comic book foe.

Injustice For All had not aired in Canada yet, and the idea grew out of the few materials posted on the web at the time, and provides my version of the character's backstory. As it turned out, I guessed a few plot points correctly, others were way off the mark; making it an story of sorts.

By way of rating or warning, the story is generally PG-13, for the usual comic book violence, ie., fisticuffs, etcetera. A strong friendship exists between the two main characters; potential f/f slash might be infered, but there is nothing explicit.

* * *

  
  
She had everything.

And in her pride, she through it all away.

Her motives had been honourable, she convinced herself. Working for the betterment of all mankind, to discover the universal panacea, the cure for the common cold, for cancer, and any number of diseases that had plagued humanity throughout the ages.

Very convincing, she repeated to herself, as she caught sight of her reflection for the umpteenth time in that broken shard of glass that hung in the frame. A piece of glass that stubbornly refused to let go and join its fellows on the floor of the run–down building that she called home. No, not home. A refuge perhaps, but never a home. That door was closed to her.

  
  
Dr Crawford, I was just on my way up to see you when I received your message. I feel that I'm on the verge of a major breakthrough and... Barbara Ann Minerva uttered excitedly as she was admitted into the facility director's office.

Yes, Barbara, that's wonderful, Dr Crawford interrupted with a tight smile. Please, sit down.Yes, thank you, she replied, noticing her chief's uneasiness for the first time since entering his office. Dr Crawford, is something wrong? he began hesitantly. He determined that he'd tell her as much as he could. She was a respected colleague, and a brilliant researcher. She deserved that much, at least. Barbara, I'm afraid that your project has been cancelled.

The words struck her like a fist. Dr Crawford, Michael. You can't be serious...I'm sorry Barbara. The word came down this morning. Dr Crawford picks up a flimsy from his desk and reads; All work related to project Felicity' is to desist, and assets are to be reassigned...Haven't they seen my reports? Barbara asked. Don't they see how important this is, the potential ramifications my research could have for medical applications?Barbara, you don't have to convince me. I'm fully cognizant of what you're trying to accomplish. And for what it's worth, I support you in this. But the Board feels the time isn't right to pursue this avenue of exploration.What shall I do now? Barbara said levelly.

For now, why not call it a day? And take the day off tomorrow. He added, encouragingly, It will take at least that long for the new assignments to be posted.I suppose you're right, Doctor.Things will look cheerier on Monday. Crawford said, coming out from behind his desk to see her to the door. Barbara. Again, I am sorry.So am I.

  
  
During the walk back to her office, anger and frustration warred within her. Myopic cretinous fools, she muttered to herself, as she burst through the door to her lab, startling her assistant.

What's up, Doc? the girl said.

Barbara couldn't help but smile at the reference, her dark mood washed away as if by a spring rain. Jaime Walsh was an inveterate cartoon junkie, and her habit of offering up quotes and asides had a salutary effect.

Wrap up what you're doing and head home, Jamie, Barbara said with a calm that surprised her. The project's been pink–slipped.Geez, doc, you can't be serious.'Fraid so. I'll be in my office.

  
  
Jamie knocked as she opened the door to Barbara's office. I'm all done out here, she said.

Thanks Jaime.So. What happens now?Standard procedure in these instances, I expect. Barbara put down her pen and looked up at her friend. Jaime was that and more. Many times her intuitiveness had been invaluable to the project. When her graduate studies were completed, she would make a first rate researcher in her own right. All this will go into storage, then we'll start working on something else.Yah, right, Jaime said as she turned to leave. Hey Doc, I was thinking of seeing a movie at the multiplex. Why don't you come along?I've some things to finish up here. You go have fun.Make sure you follow your own advice, Doc. Impulsively, she crossed the distance between them and gave Barbara a hug. Hey Barb, she said earnestly, I worry about you. It's going to be okay.Such wisdom from the mouth of babes, Barbara replied.

Ha! You're not that old yourself, Wunderkind. Jamie broke the embrace and gave Barbara a quick peck on the cheek. Take care of yourself Doc. I don't want to wind up working for some guy in his dotage. I like having a sexy young boss.

With that, Jaime turned and breezed out of the office, leaving a stunned Barbara to puzzle out what had just happened.

  
  
Barbara Ann closed her notebook in frustration. She had been so close, was it obvious just to her? She felt the need to get some air; brooding in her office was accomplishing nothing. Getting up to get her coat, she added the notebook to the neatly boxed documents that encapsulated her life's work of the past two years.

At the door, she stops, her hands playing over the light switches. Impulsively, she crosses back to her desk and retrieves the notebook from the packing case and thrusts it into her coat pocket. She locks the door to her office and crosses over to the refrigerator, removing a vial of serum that joins the notebook in her pocket. A hypodermic from the supply cabinet completes her shopping list. Barbara takes a moment to collect herself before locking the lab behind her and taking the elevator to the lobby.

  
  
Inside her apartment, Barbara sets her treasures on her coffee table as she sinks to her knees, contemplating what she's done. Barbara Ann Minerva, master criminal, she thinks to herself with a chuckle. What could have possessed her to remove company property from the lab, she who'd never had so much as a speeding ticket in her life?

Again Barbara scans through her notes. She had to be right. And there was only one way to prove it now. Steeling her courage, Barbara draws a measured dose of the serum into the hypodermic. A tourniquet around her arm causes a vein to stand out. She pierces the vein with the needle, biting back a cry of pain as the sharp instrument slides under her skin. Before she can allow herself to reconsider, she injects the serum into her bloodstream and withdraws the needle.

Replacing the hypodermic on the coffee table, Barbara picks up a pencil and her notebook. A proper student of the scientific method, she readies herself to record any observations she might have; any sensations she might experience. The minutes tick away.

Nothing. The clock on the mantle quietly chimes the half hour. Still nothing.

The notebook is put aside. Barbara crosses her living room, and goes out onto her balcony. The rain is cool against her skin, and the air feels crisp and fresh, a welcome change from the day's heat. I wonder what I was expecting, she thought out loud. Some sweeping physiological change? Could I have been in error, exploring the wrong path? It wouldn't be the first time hubris had a blinding effect.

That night she dreamed of running. Nothing like her usual urban constitutionals, but wild, unfettered, and delightfully free.

  
  
6:00am typically came very early. But this morning found Barbara dressed and ready for her jog around Bedford Park before her alarm had had its chance to do its work. She reacted to its sound like a thoroughbred at the starting gate, and bolted out of her apartment.

Her route took her past the reservoir by way of the botanical gardens, then down along Astor Commons. Feeling particularly energized, she took the path leading to Southgate Mews, before winding her way along the promenade and back to her building.

After her shower, Barbara begins to lay out her usual workday attire, then remembered she didn't have to go down to STAR today. Time for a leisurely breakfast, then. With juice poured and toast on the way, Barbara pulls out a map and traces her morning itinerary. Her loop past Southgate had added three extra miles to her route, and she hardly felt the difference. In fact, she felt great.

The toast forgotten, Barbara ran to the full–length mirror in her bedroom to get a good look at herself. Dropping her robe to the floor, she eyed the woman in the mirror with a critical detachment. Never one to obsess over exercise, she tried to maintain as healthy a lifestyle as her workday permitted. The woman looking back at her had the muscle tone of a gymnast. She hadn't looked this well turned out since she'd been eighteen. Even her auburn hair had an unusually brilliant sheen. She giggled like a schoolgirl, and the other woman reflected her amusement.

The serum, she thought. It had to be. A tremendous sense of validation came over her. She had been correct. This would prove to those bureaucrats at STAR the error of their ways. She only needed a way to explain how she obtained the test data. And she knew the perfect person to give her story the right spin.

  
  
I'm really glad you could join me for lunch, Jaime, Barbara smiled as she welcomed her friend.

Are you kidding? Jaime replies with a laugh. Even if you weren't buying, the reaction I'm getting is definitely worth it. I don't much fit in with the lunch crowd in this place.

Jaime's laughter proved infectious, and Barbara found herself sharing the joke. Outside the lab, Jaime enjoyed the club scene, and she enjoyed dressing the part. Her taste in clothes frequently caused heads to turn at work, and the effect was no less here.

Actually Doc, I was kinda worried about you yesterday, Jaime continued soberly. I've seen how you get about your work. I was sure you'd be all mopey. But look at you. You're glowing!

Barbara was grinning from ear to ear as she poured Jaime a glass of wine. Jaime, it works.What works? What are you talking about, Doc?The project. The serum. Jaime, I've tried it, it works!Barb, you didn't...

Barbara enjoyed another small victory. It took a lot to shock Jaime, and it seemed she had grabbed the brass ring with this one.

There was so much Jaime wanted to say, wanted to ask. She was struggling finding a starting point when the waiter showed up to take their orders.

Barbara, how could you? The serum was untested, we have no way of knowing what effect it will have.This is the test, Jaime. It would have come to this eventually. I just proceeded to the next step.But we were supposed to run simulations. Computer modeling to predict cellular interaction, Jamie countered. Y'know, for someone smart enough to have studied at John Hopkins, you can be really clueless sometimes.Oh pooh, you're no fun, Barbara pouted. Besides, I feel fine. Just great, in fact! I haven't felt this good in years. D'you know I ran five miles this morning and didn't even feel tired?Look, I'm happy for you, but I think you're missing my point.But I haven't changed, she says, digging voraciously into her huge order of ribs the waiter sets in front of her. Well, okay. I've a bit more endurance, but that's all, really.And table manners that'd make Miz Etiquette cringe, muttered Jaime, somewhat put off her own lunch, watching her friend. Barbara, how can you eat all that? You could barely finish the house salad at Zorba's before.I know. Isn't it strange? I'm feeling ravenous, and I've been eating all morning, too.Barb, we need to get this under control.That's exactly what I'd hope you'd say...

  
  
She woke, startled. Again the dream. It was strange. In her dream she felt strong, powerful. Like she was running free, with the wind rushing by, caressing her body. Intoxicated by the sounds, the smells, and the myriad sensations of wide, open territory.

Realizing she was in the familiar setting of her bedroom, Barbara began to relax. Padding to her bathroom she switched on the lights, wincing at the sudden brightness, and fumbled about blindly for a few moments until her hands found the taps.

The splash of water on her face had a restorative effect. I needed that, Barbara said to herself with a smile, as she brushed aside a loose strand of red hair.

Red hair?

She looked up in the mirror and noticed the strange face staring at her from the glass. There was a moment of shocked silence before a long, keening wail rose from her changed lips. She forced herself to look again. There was no doubt she had changed. Her analytical mind began cataloging the changes, in an effort to ward off the madness she was certain would come.

Barbara's hair colour had changed to a vibrant red–orange. Her eyes were still blue, but the pupils had narrowed to slits. Her nose, that very patrician nose, which had characterized the profile of generations of Minervas, had both flattened and widened giving her face a leonine appearance. Her new nostrils quivered, cat–like, as a single tear welled in her eye and slowly ran down her cheek to the black outline of her new lips.

  
  
Barbara remembered what Jaime had said. Control groups, computer analysis. Barbara knew also that the key to her mutation was buried amidst all the project data at STAR. She needed to regain access if she was going to find her way back.

Breaking and Entering. All her years of schooling, and this is the best idea she could come up with. There was little choice. She could hardly walk in the front door, looking as she did now. Besides, there was no reason for Barbara Ann Minerva, Doctor of Molecular Biology, to be on the premises during the weekend, especially as news of her project's cancellation would likely have been CC'ed to all departments by now.

At least STAR's Gotham facility was housed in an older building, the stone facing allowed the claws on her hands and feet some purchase as she scaled the wall.

In minutes she had reached the floor on which her office was located. She worked her way to her office window, unconcerned that a narrow ledge was all that kept her from falling to the street nine floors below. The windows on this floor hadn't locked properly in years, so it was a simple enough matter to force a claw between the sill and the window frame. A brief application of force, and the window slid open, granting access to the darkened rooms within.

Nice of them not to have locked anything up yet, Barbara thought. The cases containing the project documentation were exactly where she'd left them earlier. She could help herself to a few items, and no one would be the wiser. She flipped quickly through the binders, silently thankful that her newfound visual acuity didn't require her to bother with the lights, avoiding an additional risk of being detected. Unclasping her backpack, she removed the foam inserts that would protect the vials she needed and bagged her selection.

Moving into the lab, Barbara makes her way to the refrigerator where the samples were kept. She'd already decided which vials would be of use, and removed each vial from the fridge as she checked it off from the list in her mind. All versions of the serum, for a start. The base elements, the binding agent...

Late to be working, isn't it? a gravelly voice said from a dark corner of the room.

Barbara slammed the refrigerator shut, and quickly danced out of the way, her prize temporarily forgotten as the Batman emerged from the shadow to apprehend her.

Wonderful, that's just what I need, Barbara thought. She'd heard the stories, of course. His reputation was legend. Leave me be, she whispered fiercely. This doesn't concern you. Breaking and Entering' and Grand Theft' are still felonies in this town. I'm bringing you in.I don't think so, she replied, with a conviction that surprised her.

During this time the Batman had assessed the situation and had moved to block her only avenue of escape. Realizing this, Barbara growled in defiance. She'd have to match her earlier bravado with action if she harboured any hope of getting away.

She'd lose a prolonged confrontation; this much was evident. Whatever course Barbara decided upon would have to be quick and decisive. She leapt straight for the shadowy figure, raking him with her claws as she passed. The great Batman was taken aback seeing his adversary clearly for the first time, and lost the advantage. It was only his finely honed reflexes that enabled him to quickly sidestep Barbara's desperate lunge, avoiding a wound that could've cut to the bone.

Barbara vaulted over the workbench, and pushed off against its far edge to propel her into the office. She wasted no time going out the window she'd entered not fifteen minutes ago, slid down the storm drain to the ground, and ran for blocks before realizing she was not being pursued. What will I do now? she thought, stealing a moments respite in the shadows cast by buildings lining the street. I've been seen. I can't go back to STAR anymore.

Batman had remained behind in the dark offices, making a note of the materials the thief had tried to take, before returning everything to their place. He drew a small sample from one vial for analysis on his return to the Batcave, knowing for a certainty that he would face this mysterious person again. And this time he would be ready.

  
  
Jaime knocked again on her friend's door. No answer. Getting the spare key from its hiding place, Jaime let herself into the apartment. Barbara, are you here? You didn't come into the office today, I wanted to see if you were alright. Jaime finds the light switch and flicks it on and off. Barbara, your lights don't work. She hears a quiet rustling in the corner. Focusing on the sound, she continues, Barbara, why is it so hot in here? It must be ninety, or something.I was cold, was the simple reply.

Jaime gasped as the voice's owner came out of the shadow and into the pool of light coming in through the balcony door.

You were right, Jaime. There were a few side–effects.

Barbara's appearance reminded Jaime of the Egyptian cat–goddess she'd seen statues of while studying Art History as an elective in college. Her facial features were feline, even her ears were cat–like, and perched atop her head. The late afternoon light cast a golden sheen on Barbara's naked body; she actually resembled those statues.

Oh god, I itch all over. Make the itching go away, Barbara pleaded, as she raked sharp claws over her skin, seeking a reprieve from the intense irritation.

Barbara stop, Jaime cried, rushing forward and grasping Barbara's arm. You'll only hurt yourself. Jaime noticed several other claw marks, ugly red sores blemishing otherwise smooth skin.

Barbara looked directly at her friend for the first time. At this distance, Jaime couldn't help but be drawn into Barbara's blue eyes. The vertical slits of the irises had opened to ovals in the diminishing light. She was afraid for Barbara. Afraid for herself. But for all her fear, she couldn't help but feel a certain fascination for the vision before her.

The exotic face drew nearer. Cat–like nostrils flared briefly, tasting the air between them. I have the scent of you. The black lips quirked in an almost smile.

Barbara's next words caught in her throat as she doubled over, her body spasming violently. Hurts... so... much... Help me... please... she croaked, and passed out.

Jaime caught Barbara as she fell, preventing her from crashing to the floor from her full height. She tried to lift the unconscious woman, wanting to carry her to the bed, but couldn't manage it. Instead she lowered her gently to the floor. I'll make sure she's comfortable, At least.

Running to the bedroom, Jaime strips the double bed and carries the bedding into the living room. She gently places the pillow under Barbara's head and fashions a makeshift nest out of the linen, finally the blanket is draped over the shivering woman.

But it wasn't shivering. Barbara spasmed again several times. A moan escaped her lips that somehow articulated the pain she was experiencing. Then things took a turn for the worst.

Violent convulsions shook the woman's body. Jaime heard joints popping. She wanted to hold her friend, to comfort her. Wasn't restraining seizure patients more dangerous, she thought? Perhaps just making sure she didn't hurt herself would be enough... Barbara's legs thrashed reflexively, the claws on her feet reducing the blanket to ribbons. Jaime could see the changes occurring just below the skin. New muscles flexed, hinting at the power they contained. The feet themselves stretched into paws.

There was a crunching noise as her vertebrae shifted and changed shape, each protruding slightly along her back, and ending in a tail that extended from the base of her spine.

When fur appeared, covering Barbara's skin, Jaime was well past surprise. Downy white fur soon covered her breasts and ran down her slim tummy, emphasizing her narrow waist and rounded hips before tapering to a point that obscured her sex. While that growing on her head, back, arms, and legs acquired an orange–brown coloration, complete with irregularly placed spots.

And just as suddenly it was over. Barbara's breathing quieted; she inhaled and exhaled at regular intervals.

Jaime got up from her knees and went looking for the linen closet. She returned a few minutes later and dumped her armload on the couch. She unfolded a blanket and placed it over the sleeping woman. Well, Stanley, here's another fine mess you've gotten us into, she whispered, absent–mindedly caressing Barbara's cheek. A smile bloomed on Barbara's face as her tail swished contentedly.

The end of a perfect day, Jaime muttered, as she walked over to the couch. She fluffed a pillow, taking comfort in the normalcy of the gesture, and propped it in the corner, so she'd see if Barbara roused and needed anything. She pulled a blanket over herself and settled down to her vigil.

  
  
Jaime awoke the next morning to the smell of coffee percolating in the kitchen. Comfortable, homey. Then she remembered whose couch she was on, and the reason she was here.

Someone was sitting at the dining room table, though perched on a chair would be a more apt description. Cat ears pricked up hearing movement in the next room, and the figure turned toward her guest.

In a fluid motion, Barbara had jumped down from the chair, and, on all fours quickly covered the distance to the couch. She stood, and tentatively sat next to Jaime, who reflexively pulled her legs up to her chin, without ever breaking eye contact. Jaime asked, wondering how much of her friend might still be a part of the cat–woman seated beside her. Barbara, are you okay?I suppose, all things considered. Barbara looked down at her clawed hands, at the fur covering her body and said softly, I think I'm finished changing.The serum?It seems I didn't get the formula quite right, Barbara laughed. But the laughter sounded forced, brittle. I went for a run this morning, Jaime. Early. It was still dark outside, but I could see everything so clearly. And running in the park felt wonderful, electric...Some of these improvements' were intentional, Barbara said, her voice wavering, her mind flirting on the verge of hysteria. I wanted the increased strength and endurance... Too much genetic material was encoded in the serum... It remade me...

That was apparent enough.

Jaime tried very hard not to stare, to act nonchalant about everything, but was losing the battle. Barbara had always been an attractive woman, and somehow the changes she'd undergone only served to emphasize this, making her appearance truly exotic. Sensual.

Barbara sniffed. She savoured the air charged with her friend's discomfiture. Why Jaime, I never realized you were so kinky, she said teasingly, the trill of laughter in her voice.

Jaime blushed a brilliant scarlet. I think the coffees ready, she said quickly, eager to change the subject, and made a dash for the kitchen. She prattled about with the cups and saucers, but knew that this was only delaying the inevitable. Huh, Barb, you still like coffee, don't you?I'm still me inside, Barbara said from the kitchen door. Yes I do like coffee. With milk, please. They drank in silence a few minutes, neither willing to admit to the incongruity of the moment.

So what happens now?I've left some papers for you. Later this morning my lawyer will receive some documents granting you power of attorney, on my behalf. He'll call you to finalize this. I hope you'll hold down the fort for me.You're leaving? Jaime was aghast. Barb, you can't leave. We can work this out, find a cure...Jaime, I don't exactly fit in anymore. I need to work things through. On my own.But... Barbara...I told you I'd been out running. But I wasn't planning on coming back. I came back because of you. I couldn't leave without saying goodbye.

Barbara brushed Jaime's cheek with her hand, echoing the woman's gesture from the night before. I remember everything that happened. Thank you for being here for me. You're a true friend.

With that, Barbara stepped out onto the balcony and vaulted the railing, dropping to the ground three floors below. Jaime rushed out to see her stop near a footpath that wound its way between two adjacent shrubberies, turn back and blow her a kiss before disappearing into the park.

* * *

  
  
Here ends Chapter One... 


	2. On The Prowl

The Cheetah  
Chapter 2 - On The Prowl!

by: J.F.

* * *

I wrote this story a little over a year ago. It stars the Cheetah, the version who appeared in the Justice League episode, Injustice For All and not, strictly speaking, Wonder Woman's comic book foe.

Injustice For All had not aired in Canada yet, and the idea grew out of the few materials posted on the web at the time, and provides my version of the character's backstory. As it turned out, I guessed a few plot points correctly, others were way off the mark; making it an story of sorts.

By way of rating or warning, the story is generally PG-13, for the usual comic book violence, ie., fisticuffs, etcetera. A strong friendship exists between the two main characters; potential f/f slash might be infered, but there is nothing explicit.

* * *

  
  
My family name is Minerva, for the Roman goddess of wisdom. Lately I've done anything but live up to my namesake. I've used an untested process on myself that changed me into a cheetah–woman, ruined my professional standing, and jeopardized a friendship that's very dear to me. How can anyone have made so many of the wrong life choices?

  
  
Part 1

Barbara watched the sunset from her vantage point in the abandoned warehouse. Since she'd selected this place as her new residence, she had adapted to a nocturnal lifestyle. There were fewer people about during the hours after the clubs locked their doors for the night and the predawn that brought the tradesmen out in force, less chance of being seen also. There was no point in advertising her presence.

A few more hours, and she'd be free to run.

It was easily the best part of the night, running through the darkened city, drinking in the cool air. Especially wonderful after being hidden away all day. She had raced the EL during her first night to clock her speed, and found she could easily maintain the pace it set over most of its route, even outdistance it with little effort. But it was in the park where she preferred to take her exercise.

The park also solved a second problem. She had to eat. And while the notion of walking into an all–night pizzeria occasioned a laugh, it would hardly contribute to the maintenance of a low profile. Barbara had never realized the park had such a thriving colony of rabbits. The game she played of chasing one down before it went to ground served a far more vital aspect as well.

Catching her diner was one thing. But Barbara was still human enough to prefer roast over raw game. Fortunately there was still power at the warehouse. When she'd arrived, the breakers had all been tripped. Barbara had pulled each one in turn, removing any corrosion she found, and reset the circuits. Her efforts were rewarded with lights and functional appliances in the company staff room.

With matters regarding her survival taken care of, she had to get to work reclaiming her life. It would be difficult conducting any sort of research. Barbara would need supplies, and she would have to obtain these items without running afoul of the Batman. That would make things very awkward; she remembered her first encounter with Gotham's self appointed protector and had no desire to cross paths again.

Considering the only means of obtaining these supplies would likely involve larceny, she'd have to plan her moves very carefully. Her only chance of resuming a normal life after regaining her humanity was if no one made the connection between the Cheetah and Barbara Minerva.

  
  
Jaime Walsh was settling into Barbara's apartment. The circumstances that had brought her here still made her uncomfortable. It almost felt like she was profiting from her friend's misfortune. But Barbara had asked her. She'd asked her, before disappearing into the urban jungle that she'd exiled herself to. So Jaime stayed. Hoping for some news, hoping to see her friend again. It had been ten days now, and still no word.

At work, she maintained the fiction that Barbara had set in place. Barbara was away, having taken some personal days off to tend to family business. Barbara would contact Director Crawford as soon she could, letting him know when she'd be back. But even the polite inquiries had stopped; it was business as usual at STAR Labs. Jaime had been reassigned to chemical analysis, a job routine that required precision, accuracy, but few challenges, and did nothing to alleviate her mood. Some were even beginning to notice the taciturn young woman who had replaced their cheerful and outgoing young colleague.

Alone in the apartment, the mask was off. The evening news ended, and Jaime felt tears well up as she thought again of her friend. Be safe, Barb, she whispered.

  
  
The Gotham Zoological Gardens were world renown for both its large collection of animals, and the art deco inspired buildings and animal enclosures that co–existed with the lush landscaping of the park. None of this mattered to Barbara as she moved stealthily from shadow to shadow. Nearing her objective, she stared into the surrounding darkness and tested the air to confirm no other presence was in the park. No human presence, anyway. The animals were quiet, having settled for the night; as long as she did nothing to alarm them, her visit would go unnoticed.

The inhabitants of the Big Cats pavilion voiced their unease as some caught wind of the confusing scent nearby. They'd been accustomed to the smell of the humans who tended them, but this was altogether different, being neither of the city nor the grasslands.

Barbara thought. Even they know I don't belong anywhere.

She made her way over to the building's west side, where the cheetahs were housed. A solitary female occupying the outdoor portion of the enclosure looked up as Barbara appeared at the railing, and issued a low growl of warning. Barbara took aim with the pistol she'd borrowed from the administration offices.

Sorry, darling, she whispered, firing the tranquilizing dart at the pacing animal. I can't be taking any chances.

An excruciatingly long five minutes later, the cat had gone to sleep. Barbara leapt over the railing and moat, and landed softly on the grassy enclosure floor. Verifying that the cheetah was otherwise unharmed, she began to collect her samples. Blood and saliva would suffice, which contained the genetic makeup of all living things. She worked quickly, unsure how long her subject would remain sedated.

Repacking everything took another few moments. Her samples and instruments disappeared into a travel pouch attached to a surplus web belt that she'd taken to wear bandolier–style, which left her hands free and didn't restrict movement. After making another quick check, ensuring all was in order, she scampered up the tree the park designers had planted out of aestheticism, and swung off a lower branch to freedom.

In the relative safety of her refuge, Barbara felt cheered by her successes. Things had gone well tonight, and she would soon have everything she needed to continue her research. She'd acquired glassware and other lab supplies, and a microscope. The last was a particularly fine prize. She had been sore for a few days following her heist, from the way the heavy instrument had bounced all over her back as she returned home...

That earned a laugh, at how easily she had called this ramshackle building home. Still, it serves its purpose. It provided shelter and a place to think, to strategize.

  
  
Any success, Master Bruce? Alfred asked as he brought a tray down for his charge. Too often, when Bruce was too preoccupied with his avocation, he would forget about such niceties as food and rest.

An interesting puzzle, Alfred, Bruce answered, without looking away from the data streaming across the plasma monitor; his hands played over the keyboard, inputting instructions into the Batcave's powerful computer. The laboratory equipment thefts might not have raised any flags on their own. But taken together, there's a definite pattern behind these seemingly random acts.

Alfred deposited the tray on a table adjacent to the console and turned his attention to the screen. How so? he enquired.

The police report filed by Gotham Glassworks indicates that a variety of laboratory glassware went missing from their inventory, though hardly in quantities to make resale viable, even if our underworld friends had any interest in such merchandise. And only one microscope was taken from Zeiss Optical.Suggesting that these items were intended for use?And the actual items missing from Axis Chemical?

The thief's interest was very specific. Each chemical taken formed either an active component or was crucial to the manufacture of the serum sample from STAR Labs. Coincidentally, some of these elements are also present in the man–bat formula.

Do you suspect the Langstrom's are up to their old tricks, Sir?I don't think so, Alfred. Granted, there are similarities, but the final products in each case suggest two distinct approaches. And I've spoken with Kirk and Francine. They're both involved in different research now, and neither have any interest in revisiting that episode of their lives.Which means we've a new player in town, Alfred said after a moment. Do we have an idea who it might be?Not yet, but the serum was part of a project headed by one Barbara Ann Minerva. According to company records, the project's funding was withdrawn. Shortly after that, Dr Minerva took some personal time off and hasn't been heard from since.

A fine starting point for your investigation, Alfred stated, as he made his way to the stairs leading out of the Batcave. At the top landing, he paused and added, But in the meantime, may I suggest you eat your lunch, Master Bruce?Yes, Alfred.

  
  
Barbara made a note of her dwindling supplies. She'd have to make another run to Axis Chemical soon, and the idea filled her with apprehension. She'd been very lucky so far, but couldn't help thinking her luck might run out soon.

Suddenly the walls seemed very close. She had to get out, get some air. She stepped out into the cool darkness and headed toward the park.

Inside the park, she caught a scent, and gave chase. Her muscles and her body responded effortlessly. The sensations should have been ambrosial. This is what she'd lived for since her change; running, with the wind whistling against her fur. As close to flying as any earth–bound could hope to attain. Yet she pursued her prey halfheartedly.

This rabbit was very lucky tonight. Its enemy was inattentive and made a mistake, allowing it to disappear under the brush and down into the safety of its bolthole. It would live another day.

Barbara blinked. The dark thoughts that had clouded her mind vanished. Was it really so simple? She paced back and forth, examining the greenery in front of her. She knew her prey was still there, could sense the warm musky smell of rabbit, could hear the fierce tattoo of its beating heart as it remained perfectly still, waiting for the danger to pass. But her eyes could see only the thick vegetation concealing the burrow's entrance.

Barbara knew what she had to do.

  
  
A moment of your time, Miss Walsh? The shadows moved, and Jaime was aware of the grim countenanced, cowled figure standing in the apartment. We need to talk.You're a friend of Dr Minerva, Batman continued factually. Have you heard from her recently?I don't know what you mean...Don't play coy with me, Miss Walsh. I don't wear patience well. You're staying in an apartment leased to Dr Minerva; papers were filed at County granting you the charge of her legal affairs. So I'll ask you again, Where is she?I don't know. Really. Jaime replied. I haven't seen nor heard from her. Not for weeks.Its the serum, isn't it? the Detective pursues relentlessly. She administered the serum to herself, didn't she? And it changed her. Jaime answered, weeping. You've got to help her. She's a good person. She's just overwhelmed by everything right now.She's committed crimes. This must stop. Now. Tell her this when she contacts you. Tell her it's not too late for her, that she can still come home.But how do you know she'll... Jaime started to ask, but the shadows were still once more.

  
  
Barbara was once again scaling the Axis Chemical tower, determined to come away with enough supplies this time to see her experiment through. she thought, clear your mind. Concentrate on the task at hand. Reaching the roof, she pulled herself over the railing and stopped a moment to rest before heading for the door that led into the building.

Lifting her head, she catches his scent before seeing the dark figure emerge from behind the stairwell. Batman!

Lovely night to be about, isn't it, Dr Minerva.

Barbara froze. He knows who I am! She looked around furtively, searching for an avenue of escape.

What do you want? I've done nothing wrong.Of course not, he said in that gravelly voice she remembered so well. Everybody in Gotham takes moonlight strolls on rooftops.

Anger flashed through Barbara's mind. Now he was mocking her!

Dr Minerva, you don't have to be doing this. Batman saw she was starting to back away toward the railing, recognized the signs of incipient panic. Miss Walsh told me what happened...Barbara. Jaime told me everything. I can help.No you can't. Nobody can. She turns and runs to the side of the building. Without stopping, she leaps to the top of the railing and pushes off the edge.

Batman watched as she fell, his mind calculating speed and trajectory, and became genuinely frightened for the woman, certain she'd fall short of the adjacent rooftop. Then realized the roof hadn't been her target.

Barbara impacts hard against the window–washing cage, an involuntary cry of pain escapes her lips at the wrenching pain shooting up her arm as she secures her grip. Then, reaching for a cable suspending the cage from the building's side, she uses the cable to lower herself down.

Well done, he allows. He fires a grapnel at the building opposite, and with a firm grasp on the decel line, leaps into the void and gives chase.

Barbara's on the ground now, running scared. She looks over her shoulder and sees His shadow flit overhead, in pursuit. Dropping to all fours, she ignores the throbbing in her arm and pours on all the speed she can muster, hoping to reach the safety of the park before her stamina runs out.

From the rooftops, Batman realizes the night's exercise may not be as simple as he'd thought. The woman was moving at an incredible speed, and heading toward the park. If he wasn't able to cut off her escape before then, he would be limited to a ground search, and the attendant loss of advantage.

When Barbara finally saw the familiar landmarks marking the periphery of the park, she allowed herself a mental sigh of relief. She crossed Parkside Drive and cut through the children's play area; the synthetic gravel would mask, briefly at least, the direction she's taken. Moments later, she'd covered the distance between her and her hidey hole she'd dug out a few nights earlier, and went to ground.

Batman cursed to himself as he admitted that he'd lost track of his quarry. He had crisscrossed the park on foot since losing sight of Cheetah because of the tree canopy, but had been unable to pick up her trail.

From within her cold, dark burrow, Barbara waited and listened. Batman was above, searching; he'd come frightenly close a number of times, but had not found her. After what seemed like hours, she heard nothing more. She made an effort to slow her pulse and quiet her heartbeat. Now I know how the rabbit must have felt, she thought wryly. Eventually, exhaustion claimed her, and she fell asleep.

  
  
When Barbara awoke, she knew, without venturing from her burrow, that night had fallen once more. That was good. She needed to be on the move, to get back to work, at least until her current supplies held out. There was no way she'd risk another adventure like she'd had last night. Batman would be watching for her. Better to lay low for a time.

At the burrow's entrance, she sniffed, testing the air. Nothing. Peering into the darkness revealed nothing. She was alone.

Back out in the open, Barbara indulged in a luxurious stretch, and shook off the dirt clinging to her fur. This cat definitely does not do well underground, she thought, then remembered something else. Her arm had been hurt; there had been some pain when she'd fallen asleep. Flexing the arm, she felt nothing. In fact, she felt quite well, considering having spent the night on the cold ground.

How interesting. More clinical observations would have to wait, however. It was past time to get out of the open. Leaving the park behind her, she made her way along the quiet streets, moving from shadow to shadow, taking care to stay out of sight. Unfortunately, she hadn't been careful enough. Her return to the warehouse had not gone unobserved.

  
  
What is it, Mercy?

Mercy was Lex Luthor's chauffeur, bodyguard, and all around girl Friday. She and Luthor had a shared history, one which neither speaks about. She's the only person with the brass to call Luthor by his given name, and he tolerates this familiarity from no one else.

We've finished the test, Lex, she tells her boss. Everything worked as you anticipated.And you disturb me at this hour to tell me that? Luthor asks, allowing the customary imperious tone that has cowed so many underlings into his voice, though he's aware Mercy wouldn't call for trivialities.

The monitoring system caught something on tape that should be of interest. No one else on the crew has seen it.Very well. Bring it by the penthouse in fifteen minutes.Right, Lex.

  
  
Here kitty, kitty, kitty... Barbara uttered a deprecation. She'd been so intent on her work and hadn't noticed the intrusion until too late. Worst still, she couldn't fail to recognize who had come calling.

I just love what you haven't done to the place. It's got panache. So stylish. Rundown–Modern is a look that's sooo in these days.What do you want, Joker?What do I want? Moi? Nothing, kitty–cat. But Lexie seems to think you'd be good company at our little party... He slipped a calling card into her line of sight. The card bore a phone number. Nothing more.

then it occurred to Barbara who the madman was referring to. Lex Luthor? I told him. Lexie, we can't have this cat in our clubhouse. The superintendent has a strict no pets' rule. Besides, we don't know where its been.So the famous Joker is nothing more than Luthor's messenger boy.

The Joker was apoplectic. He grabbed Barbara by the throat and gave her a look of pure malevolence. The Joker is no one's messenger boy, Toots!

Barbara just smiled. Not easy, as her windpipe was being crushed and could hardly breathe. Realizing he'd been baited, his dark mood dissipated as fast as it had appeared. What? Oh, HAH ha ha! Aren't you a clever little cat.

Joker released his hold on Barbara, who made a studied attempt to return to work, all the while minding her guest very closely. Whyever would I want to join up with Luthor? she asked casually. He's nothing to me.A little mirth, a little mayhem. Joker said, making a point of checking out Barbara's makeshift workbench. I heard Guano–Man spoilt your fun. Wouldn't it be grand, you sending him a little get even card?I'm not interested.But I insist. Moe, Lar! two of Joker's henchmen came into the room. They'd been waiting outside, at the ready. Spay the cat and bag 'er, boys.

The two mammoth henchmen advanced slowly and deliberately toward their intended victim. They were confident in their ability to take down their opponent, figuring their combined brute force would suffice against a single female.

Barbara, or rather Cheetah, had no intention of giving them an easy time of it. She crouched, ready to move, and seeing her opportunity, went on the offensive.

Cheetah hit the first goon full in the stomach. Not the strongest punch on its own, but with all her speed as well as strength behind it, was sufficient to knock the wind out of Lar. Without a pause, she tucked, then spun around, and pushed off the staggering hood, kicking him in the face for good measure, her claws drawing blood.

Lar bellowed his rage, blindly lashing out at the source of his hurt, blood streaming into his eyes.

Over here, handsome, Cheetah taunted, as she clung to Moe's shoulders. She jumped to safety before Moe could connect with a punch, but not without leaving him with a little souvenir, a little caress, to push him, too, over the edge.

Lar impacted full–tilt into Moe, and pummeled his erstwhile partner. Moe, with any semblance of rational thought abandoned, struck out, just as blindly, against the source of his pain. Moments later, both collapsed, having knocked each other senseless. Cheetah turned, and started toward Joker. You're next, clown, she hissed.

Well, I'm off, Joker tittered, backing–up toward the door. Have been for years, actually. Way past the expiration date. The mad laughter echoes through the building as he makes good his escape. Give us a call us if you change your mind, kitty–cat. We'll do kibble.

Barbara feels elated until she sees the two unconscious lunkheads on her floor. Oh great, she mutters, I get to clean up the mess.

  
  
Barbara hadn't had to do much to persuade her two unwanted guests to leave when they came round. But it was a pyrrhic victory. She slumped down to the floor and wept, thinking how far and how quickly she had fallen.

She had no means to continue, much less finish her research.

Batman knew who she was.

Her warehouse was no longer a safe haven; Lex Luthor and the Joker both knew of her, knew where she was hiding, and could return at any time, possibly using a less cordial means of persuasion to sway her to their cause.

Perhaps... perhaps she could protect herself from within their group...

She dialed the number on the card. The phone was picked up almost immediately at the other end.

Just that single word uttered by her unknown interlocutor left Barbara speechless, unsure of what to say.

I assume I'm speaking to the Cheetah?Who is this? Barbara asked, having recovered the use of her faculties.

Come to the untenanted warehouse by the waterfront, one block west of the Stacked Deck. Tonight. All your questions will be answered. Then the line went dead.

She redialed the number. After the fourth ring, a recording kicked in; I'm sorry, this number is no longer in service...

  
  
Part 2

Barbara was running for her life. Not even when Batman had been chasing her down the city streets had she been so frightened. Staying close to the shadows, she stops running a moment to regain her breathe.

She hears the maniacal laughter echoing in the alleyway, closer than before. Her heart catches in her throat. He's found me!Come out, come out; kitty–cat. Gunfire strafed a nearby alley. Again she hears that insane giggle. You broke Uncle Joker's heart when you left. Now Uncle Joker has to put you down!I thought I'd done some boneheaded things since I became the Cheetah, but connecting up with these... Barbara shook her head in wonder. She was planning to stop by the old warehouse to pick up her gear, but Joker had anticipated her. On the move again, she was less than a block away when the concussive force from the explosion knocked her off her feet.

The sky rained glass shards for fifteen seconds, but seemed much longer to Barbara who'd taken shelter behind a dumpster, the noise deafening as the glass projectiles shattered against steel and concrete. She heard the laughter again. He's crazy, she thought. Of course he's crazy, she chided herself, thankful no innocent people were about this time of night.

Can't have you running to your lair, kitty–cat.

Barbara came out from behind the dumpster. Ouch, ouch, ouch, she muttered to herself as she stepped over broken glass. She may have thick pads under her feet, but she was still essentially barefoot.

Looking up, she saw her warehouse refuge in flames. She'd have to hide in the park for now.

A flash of scarlet streaked by. the whirlwind said as it passed. Instants later, a vortex formed around the blazing building, choking the flames.

Gunfire again, but further away, and moving off. You'll never catch me this time, Bats, the Joker screamed defiantly.

It seems the fire had attracted help.

Curiosity overcame her. She followed the sound, moving stealthily toward the scene of the altercation. Rounding a corner, she quickly flattened herself against a wall to stay out of sight.

The fight had not lasted long. Batman was standing over Joker's prostrate form; the rest of the Justice League was nearby.

I'm not so easy to kill when I'm not tied down, am I Joker? Batman said.

Barbara saw him look in her direction, fixing her with his stare. Moments later, when the police arrived to take Joker into custody, he turned his attention back to the task at hand. We're done here, she heard him say. Time to go home.

  
  
Jaime looked up from her reading hearing a scratching at her balcony window, and saw the door slide open noiselessly.

That's it, I'm remodeling. I'm going to brick up that balcony door, she said, assuming her previous nocturnal visitor had returned.

Hello, Jaime.

It was then Jaime realized who had come calling. Barbara? Ohmigod! Barbara!Mind if I come in?You'd better. If I have to drag you in here myself... Jaime was off the couch and flew across the room in record time. She threw her arms around the taller woman, Barbara, I was so worried. I missed you so much, she wept happily.

Hey take it easy, cats don't like water, Barbara joked, but returned the embrace just as fiercely.

  
  
They'd talked most of the night through. Jaime had listened, in rapt attention, to the story Barbara had to tell. From the measures she had taken to ensure her survival, her attempts at continuing her research, and her involvement with the Injustice League. When the subject of her encounters with the Batman came up, Jaime had her own story to tell.

He was absolutely creepy. Not a sound, invisible until he chooses to be seen, Jaime recounted excitedly. It was like he just came out of the shadows. And that voice. Nails on a chalkboard!He only came by to talk to you. Barbara countered. When we met, I wasn't exactly in his good graces. Then he was chasing me, and could think of nothing except fleeing. I was absolutely terrified. I was very lucky, and managed to escape, but I'm certain my luck would have come up short, and he'd have caught me eventually.And the Injustice League?At first I thought it might be a solution; security in numbers and a means to get money for my research. But it all soured. Batman was captured, and Joker was going to kill him. And Luthor wanted to go after Superman, probably with a similar agenda. I wanted none of that.So you left...They viewed that as a betrayal. And when Batman escaped, they assumed I was involved, and came after me.Did you help?I think my running provided a distraction. But the Ultra Humanite released him. Batman must have huge resources. I heard them talking; like a businessman, Batman outbid Luthor, offering to double his share, and the Humanite accepted.Joker lost it when he found out. He lashed out at any available target, and I was unlucky enough to be caught in his sights. He might have killed me if Batman and the rest of the Justice League hadn't captured him and taken him back to Arkham.The strangest thing, Batman saw me there, cowering in the shadows. He looked right at me, and said nothing. Not to me, not directly, anyway. As the leaguers left, he said Time to go home,' pitched so I could hear. Time to come home...

  
  
It was late morning when Jaime woke. Emerging from her bedroom, she went to the kitchen and put the kettle on; then she checked in on Barbara.

The scene was a surreal Norman Rockwell cover. Barbara had fallen asleep on the couch. With those powerful legs curled up beneath her, her arms pillowing her head, her face bore a serene expression, betraying no hint of the ordeals she'd experienced recently. There was a certain innocence to the pose, Jaime thought.

Jaime, what are you doing?What? Oh... sorry, Jaime pulls her hand back quickly, embarrassed. Realizing she'd been petting Barbara, I was thinking of Spotsworth, a cat I had a few years back. Her fur was so soft (like yours). And when you started purring... Barbara was mortified. I was purring?Why, Barbara Ann Minerva, Jaime said with wicked glee, I do believe you're blushing under all that fur!

  
  
Will you hurry? He'll be here any moment.

The concierge had rung the apartment, announcing their visitor, Mr Bruce Wayne, was on the way up.

I don't want to see him.You can't back out now, Jaime said. He's coming to meet with you specifically. Put this on. The silkiness of the fabric suggested the Far East, the earthy colours, however, brought the Ottoman Empire of old to mind.

I don't like wearing clothes. It rubs me the wrong way. Literally.That's why I got you this. It's loose fitting, and modest.I'm not exactly naked.Barb, you may be furry, but you're still very much a woman. You can't run around starkers with company present. It's too distracting!

There was a knock on the door.

Oh all right, give it to me then.

Jaime pushed Barbara into the bedroom and went to answer the door.

Hello, I'm Bruce Wayne. You must be Jaime Walsh.That's right, Mr Wayne. Please come in.Thank you. Oh, I've brought a few things. Do you mind?Not at all...Could you bring that in, Edward? Addressing Jaime, he asks, Will it be all right to leave this here, for now? When she acquiesced, he said to the porter, thank you Edward, that will be all.

Jaime closes the door, and invites Bruce to have a seat. Bruce takes an envelope from the top of the pile and follows Jaime into the living room.

Will Dr Minerva be joining us?Here I am, Mr Wayne. She was wearing the robe, with the hood up, concealing most of her face.

A pleasure to meet you, Dr Minerva, he shook her hand, and was surprised by the strength in the deceptively slim wrist. To meet you both, actually.But we've met before, Barbara thought, catching his scent while they arranged themselves on the settee. A number of nagging details clicked in her mind. If Bruce had noticed her reaction, he chose to ignore it.

I was given to understand that you, Dr Minerva, were the primary on a project codenamed Felicity' being developed at STAR Labs, and you Ms Walsh, were assisting with this research.That's correct, Mr Wayne, Barbara responded guardedly, unsure where this was going. Though I would say that Jaime's involvement was more akin to a full partner than mere assistant.Of course, Bruce acknowledged. When STAR chose to wind down Felicity,' you took it upon yourself to prove your assertions correct, and used yourself as a test subject. He took the nod from the cloaked figure as corroboration.

There were some adverse reactions to the compound...Adverse. Yes, certainly; there were. Barbara added, removing her hood.

Although Bruce knew what to expect, having seen her in his guise as Batman, this was the first time he actually saw her at close quarters. Barbara's facial features were indeed feline: her nose was flatter and wider than the human norm, her eyes, cornflower blue in colour, but possessed pupils that were vertical slits. Even her ears were cat–like, and perched atop her head. A fine, orange–brown fur covering her head and face completed her appearance, one that combined the best of both her natures.

Bruce was caught staring, much to Barbara's amusement. How very striking, he remarked, before continuing.

I received this envelope from Commissioner Gordon. It, and a number of other documents had been forwarded to him from the Batman. These documents included a message to me suggesting that your research would be of interest. Dr Crawford was good enough to assist, and based on your notes, I had to agree with Batman's assessment.Funny how he talks about himself in the third person, Barbara thought.

I optioned your work from STAR. I'm convinced, as you are, of the potential benefits of your work. I'd like you to continue your research, Dr Minerva, but for WayneTech's medical division.

Barbara was stunned; this development was certainly unexpected. A quick glance at Jaime confirmed that she shared her surprise. I don't know what to say, Mr Wayne.Call me Bruce, please. And I hope you'll accept my offer. I'll be happy to make any resource you may need available to you.

  
  
After their guest had left, Barbara tore open the sealed envelope and pulled out a small sheaf of laserprinted pages. She had settled back into the couch to read the monograph Bruce Wayne had insisted he give her personally; but sat up intently as she flipped from one page to the next, her brow furrowing in concentration.

Barbara, what is it? What's in that thing?Jaime, listen to this, Barbara said, reading aloud from the conclusions presented in the monograph:

...Methyl glycose was to act as the substrate in the formulation. It was intended to isolate the required genetic traits. Instead it bonded with the template, creating a new compound, one behaving much like a parasitic virus, which reproduces by invading and corrupting the nucleic cells of its host. It is therefore able to attach itself to the baseline DNA, and rewrite genetic code, resulting in mutations consistent with the template DNA... her voice had quickened as she realized the implications of what she'd read.

Barbara looked up excitedly, a gleam in her eye. Smiling broadly, she said, Jaime, its all here. This is the key I've been missing! With this, all the pieces fall into place. Everything makes sense...

  
  
Epilogue

That's done it, Jaime announced to Barbara, as she carefully poured off the pale amber liquid from the precipitate remaining at the bottom of the test–tube. Capping the vial, she gave it to Barbara, Time to reclaim your past, Barb.And to claim my future, Barbara added. She started to prepare the correct dosage, soon she would be human again, a goal she'd worked so hard to attain. And yet...

Jaime didn't need the ability she'd picked up reading Barbara's body language to guess something was troubling her friend. Nor did it take a PhD to figure out the cause.

Oh, hi... Jaime. I... Uncertainty clouded Barbara's features. She was staring at the vial on the workbench with unconcealed dread.

Jaime reached out and gently squeezed her friend's hand. Barbara, its okay...I... Jaime, I'm scared, she admitted. After everything I've been through, this scares me more than anything...

Jaime went over and opened her arms. Barbara fell gratefully into the proffered embrace. Its okay, Jaime whispered.

Its just... I keep remembering what happened the last time... Barbara replied softly.

Its a big step. There's no hurry.Would you... Could you give me a moment?Sure, no problem.

Jaime left her alone in the area they'd designated as their lab. She suspected there was something else, but was certain Barbara would tell her in her own time.

Settling in the living room with the daily crossword, Jaime was prepared to wait out her friend. Barbara just needed some space, that's all. She'd be all right. Eight across, poem where first letter in each line form words.' Hmm. A–c–r–o–s–t–i–c.

As she finished the puzzle, Jaime looked up, and noted that a couple hours had passed, with no sign of Barbara during that time. She went over to the lab area and gently knocked on the door.

she called softly. Barbara, are you okay? Pushing the door open, Jaime saw that Barbara hadn't moved since she had seen her last. The vial was still on the workbench, untouched.

You must think I'm a coward.I don't. You know very well that I don't think anything of the sort.I've worked hard. So have you. So much effort expended, to perfect the formula, and to restore my humanity. And when the goal is in sight... Barbara turns to face her friend, and Jaime sees tears welling up in her eyes. I don't think I'm ready, yet.Oh, Barbara...I'm sorry. The tears flowed freely now.

Jaime crossed the distance between them and cradled Barbara in her arms as if she were no more than a small child, rocking her gently and whispering endearments until the racking sobs ceased.

Look at me, I'm all wet, and I've soaked you... Jaime said. And I thought you said cats didn't like water.

The slender shoulders shook again, but this time from mirth. In moments both women were laughing uncontrollably.

That's what I love about you, Jaime, Barbara said, gasping, as she tried to regain her composure. You always say the right thing. Even if it is a really bad joke.It worked, didn't it?Yes, it did... Jaime, I haven't been entirely honest with you, about not being ready... The truth is, she admitted, I've grown accustomed to my face.I know.It's just... At first I was horrified. I was so... different. Barbara was struggling to find the right words when the implications of what Jaime had said hit.

You knew? How?Well, guessed, actually. You clearly enjoyed Mr Wayne's reaction when he came by. And I've seen the look of pure joy plastered to your face when you return from your late night runs...I never could keep anything from you, could I? Barbara replied.

Nope. I know you too well for that.Could you, Barbara asked, picking up the vial from the workbench. Could you hold on to this for me?For you, anything, Jaime takes the vial and places it in cold storage. It's here when you need it. Though I'm rather glad you chose not to use this right now.Did I ever tell you, she said, looking her friend in the eye, that you really look good in spots...

* * *

  
The End 


End file.
